


Command Me To Be Well (Softly, Please)

by derekstilinski



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Minor Injuries, No Plot/Plotless, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-09
Updated: 2015-07-09
Packaged: 2018-04-08 11:17:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4302726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/derekstilinski/pseuds/derekstilinski
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Slightly battered and bruised Matt, Foggy, and comfy clothes. This is really just pure fluff with little plot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Command Me To Be Well (Softly, Please)

**Author's Note:**

> what kind of title is that wtf wtf

Foggy can see it when Matt walks into work in the morning. The limp in his step, the tender way he moves. His hand hovers over his side like he wants to cradle it, just favors his other side instead. Foggy immediately shakes his head, "No."

Matt dips his chin down and grins, making his way towards the coffee maker, "Morning, Foggy."

"Uh-huh." Foggy returns, watching the moment he stops pretending when he's not in Karen's direct line of sight, finding everything with relative ease.

"Pumpkin coffee creamer. We're getting fancy." Matt jokes, discarding his cane against the wall by the door to his office. He takes a sip of his coffee and smiles towards Karen.

"Thought I'd be exciting," Karen says with a soft chuckle, shuffling a set of papers into the pile on the opposite side of her desk, "How was your night? You left Josie's pretty early."

Matt shrugs, "I had a wonderful time face down in my pillow."

"Oh, so you slept well? I didn't notice." Foggy says, crossing his arms over his chest.

Matt knows he's done wrong but doesn't want to own up to it, yet, "You must've got in pretty late, then. Didn't even feel the bed dip when you got in. Sorry I missed you."

"Well, I'm glad you're getting a good night's sleep, Matt." Karen tells him, all genuine.

Foggy huffs, then his voice shifts away as he starts to talk, "Well, since you've had a super restful REM cycle, you won't mind reading over all these reports."

Matt frowns and follows him into his office. He finds a clear spot and sits on the edge of Foggy's desk, not comfortable but maybe Foggy will think he looks good and forget about being mad at him.

"I can't believe you," Foggy chastises in a hushed voice, "3am,Matt. _Three-fucking-A-M_. That's when you tumble through the door and try to get out of that suit quietly."

Matt touches his shoulder, curls his fingers loosely over the fabric of his coat, "Foggy, I'm—"

"You weren't supposed to stay out that long. I was worried, Matt. And I can't just call you when you're out Daredevil-ing."

"Well, you could have, actu—"

" _No_ , are you kidding me? That's all you need; in the middle of a fight and your burner phone rings. That would mess up your whole sensory thing! Knife to the stomach! Dead! Not to mention completely scene ruining. The frightening man who is beating the crime out of me needs to break for a phone call? Jesus." Foggy shakes his head, foot tapping anxiously.

Matt breathes out a laugh, both hands cupping his lukewarm coffee. Karen made it, he knows. It's terrible. "That's not what would happen."

"Maybe not, but I've had the time alone to think about it," Foggy rips the flash drive from his laptop after the files have transferred, "When you don't come home when you say, I worry the worst has happened. I worry you're dying somewhere on a grimy side street."

"But I'm fine. I'm here, you can see that." Matt tries, even if it's a lost cause. Foggy lays a hand on his thigh and presses enough, and he winces, fresh bruises under his clothes throbbing with pain.

"Not only did you stay out longer than promised, you got yourself hurt," Foggy reprimands fiercely, standing now, face close to Matt's, "And above that, you didn't wake me up to make sure you were okay. I don't sleep over a lot, Matt. You could've at least done that."

"I won't lie and say I thought you were asleep. But you were half awake, Foggy. You needed rest." Matt says, and he can feel the air swish as Foggy shakes his head.

"I don't want to hear it, Murdock," he presses the flash drive into Matt's hand and maneuvers him off his desk, "Go work. Go be lawyer-by-day."

Matt sighs and fixes his jacket, tries to smile and slather some charm on the prickly situation, "You look great today, Foggy."

"You're damn right I do." Foggy says, voice already sounding distracted as the tip-tip of his fingers skidding across the keyboard starts up again.

\--

Matt closes the door to the apartment and sets down his keys, then immediately feels Foggy's hand circling his wrist, "Where are we going?"

"To get you out of those clothes. I need to survey the damage." Foggy replies, leading Matt to his bedroom.

"Can't you just survey  _me_?" Matt stops at the side of the bed and lets Foggy's hands go to his tie, gently working the knot loose.

"Oh, we're not having sex. Nice try. No, I'm determining the damage of last night and what needs to be cared for." Foggy slips Matt's tie from his neck as Matt shrugs off his jacket. Foggy starts in on the buttons of his shirt.

"It's not that bad. A little gauze, some tape. And nothing's broken." Matt tries to assure him, but he still hears the uptick of Foggy's heart when the first bruises come into view.

Foggy contains most of his gasp and lays his forehead against Matt's, closing his eyes for a moment. It always sucks to see Matt marked up with the vigilante special of the week. It's always something. Matt presses just the slightest amount against his forehead as reassurance. He composes himself and keeps going. There are deep purple bruises on Matt's collarbone, across to his shoulder. Foggy gently sweeps the fabric to the side to see them with a deep set frown, "Do they hurt?"

Matt swallows, gives a short nod, "Yes."

Foggy nods and continues on the buttons, before sighing, "I just nodded."

"I know." Matt brings his hand up and finds the side of Foggy's face. He glides his fingers over his cheek before tucking a piece of hair behind his ear.

Foggy gets Matt out of his shirt and walks around him, gingerly touching at a thin gash from the back of Matt's right shoulder to the front. Bruises mar his back like a galaxy, colored and angry and stretching across so much skin. Foggy runs his fingers over them as encouragement to heal.

He checks under the gauze to the right on Matt's stomach, some sort of cut or— _god damn it_  —stab wound, closing it back up with careful hands while his lips press to Matt's shoulder. He's done investigating, mentally tells himself to move on, "Okay."

Matt settles on the bed and slips off his sunglasses, laying them on the table next to the bed. He reaches down and takes off his shoes, his socks. He listens to Foggy at the dresser, getting him clothes. Sweatpants, thicker socks, a shirt—no, no. A sweater, light but with long sleeves. It flows in the air more languidly when Foggy picks it out and shakes the creases from it.

Matt is getting his belt off when Foggy settles the clothes next to him. He raises his head and gives a soft smile, "Thank you."

Foggy watches Matt stand and discard his work pants. He sits again and feels over the sweater. Foggy shakes his head at the bruises on Matt's thighs. It looks like someone sat on him, dug their knees in or kicked and grabbed and hit. Foggy kneels down and glides his fingers around the lighter edge of one bruise. Matt starts softly but recovers.

"Damn it, Matt," Foggy wants to throw the book at whoever did this. And his baseball bat. And a real book just for good measure. But he knows now that whoever hurt Matt probably looks about the same, if not worse, "What... How did they even..?"

"I know. They marked up those thighs you like so much," Matt says and smiles when that pulls a broken chuckle from Foggy. He slips on the sweater and feels it sag to the side a little too much, "I prefer the ones you leave, honestly."

"Yeah, you better." Foggy gives with no real feeling behind it, running his hands soothingly over both of Matt's thighs.

"Foggy," Matt takes his hands, pinpointing his breathing to try and look as squarely at him as he can, "You're still in your suit. Go get undressed."

Foggy sighs and gets up, but Matt still holds his hands. He brings them up to his mouth and kisses his knuckles, grins a little before letting go. Matt knows how much Foggy loves when he smiles. Foggy rubs Matt's scruffy cheek playfully before going to the shelf where some of his clothes have collected over the times he's stayed. Matt is fond of that, that shelf. Before the shelf, Matt once put on one of Foggy's shirts and didn't fully realize it for an hour, and by the time he did, he felt too comfortable in the knowledge to take it off. But he hasn't told anyone about that.

He listens to Foggy get undressed, thinks about what he looks like as he does, how he feels and smells and how grateful he is to have the chance to know those things. He puts on his sweatpants, fleece a welcome flutter over his skin. He leans back and lifts his hips to settle the waistband at his bellybutton, then lays there with his socks in hand, kneading the fabric idly between his thumb, index and middle fingers. He doesn't want to get up. Maybe Foggy will just crawl in next to him and they'll lay sideways on the bed all night.

Foggy moves, his feet making soft noises on the floor. Fingers swirl over Matt's exposed stomach and he grunts, hand skidding over Foggy's to cease the motion. Foggy chuckles softly, "What are you doing, man? Did you give up?"

"No, I just laid down and found the bed was very comfortable, so comfortable that I couldn't get back up again,"

Foggy snorts and it makes Matt's mouth pull into a smile. Foggy moves away, out of the bed's immediate vicinity. Matt picks his head up, "Where are you going?"

"Not far. Super-sense me if you wanna know." Foggy tells him, and Matt drops his head back down and does. Just lightly, because Foggy's still a bit weird with him prodding an ear at everything his body is doing. He listens to Foggy's breathing, and the scrape of his hair as he tucks some behind his ears. Fingers flicking against cardboard, thin but sturdy, the light slip as one moves against another, being lifted. He hears each rivet of the record as it's slid from its case, the latch as it fits into the record player. Matt smiles as the needle presses down, and music fills his ears.

"You know, I'd get you an mp3 player, but I know you'd never use it." Foggy comes back to the bed and lays himself down to Matt's left.

Matt shrugs, hand settling in Foggy's hair, "I'd listen to books."

"...Guess what you're getting for Christmas." Foggy says, relaxing into the feeling of Matt's fingers studying his hair.

Matt laughs and turns to face him, touching lightly on his cheek before going in for a kiss. Foggy lets him, nice and slow, and he can almost feel Matt saying he's sorry with the press of his lips. Matt lets his eyes slip shut, one hand keeping hold on Foggy's hair while the other tips his chin up to get a better angle. It still feels new, kissing Foggy, even if they've done it a lot. Matt likes the plush of his lower lip and the way it fits right with his. He likes to taste Foggy's mint toothpaste, to swipe his tongue over Foggy's when he's allowed it. The sound when Foggy sighs and melts against him, how his heart calms after the initial meeting, and then speeds up when their kisses get enthusiastic. How he laughs so fondly if Matt moans, and rubs his fingers against Matt's beard when they're breaking to breathe. Matt can't get enough. It stirs something in him, makes his blood pump and hands possessive, all his senses hone in like Foggy's a beacon. He hums in satisfaction when Foggy's tongue teases his lips, the sudden flutter of a glide has Matt's skin singing.

Foggy pulls himself away first, and Matt almost follows him, craving just a little more. Foggy gives him a quick slide of his mouth to calm him, "You need rest."

"This is the best rest I could ever have." He hasn't opened his eyes yet and he doesn't think Foggy has, either.

"That's a smooth line." Foggy says with a few rumbles of laughter.

"Did it work?" Matt asks hopefully, peeking his eyes open, still feeling where Foggy's mouth moved against his.

"Kind of. But I know better," Foggy's fingers are there on his face, rubbing thoughtfully at the hair on his cheek and jaw, "Please, get your ass up to the pillow and rest."

"Counselor, can there be a deal set in place?" Matt licks his lips, listening to Foggy's heart.

Foggy watches Matt try to meet his eyes, grin softly before his eyes shift to vaguely around his chin, waiting for his reply. He smiles at the thoughtful effort, thumb running over Matt's bottom lip, "I'll stay, if you stay in bed with me tonight."

"I accept. Thank you," Matt finds his mouth again for a short kiss, "Thank you."

They separate and Matt feels cold without him. He slips on his socks and crawls up the bed with Foggy, eyes closing at the feeling that washes over him like a warm ocean wave when Foggy plasters himself to his side. He slips his arm out to cushion his head, entice him closer. Foggy's fingers sneak under his sweater, head settling just right so his breath rolls hot over Matt's neck, "You know, this shirt hangs off one of your shoulders."

"Yeah, probably because you picked it." Matt smiles wide at Foggy's outright giggle.

He smooths his fingers back and forth across Matt's stomach, "I promise, it was a lucky draw."

Matt can hear him telling the truth, but he teases anyway, "Yeah, yeah. Sure."

Foggy chuckles, a movement that makes him curl into Matt's side even more, "You're right. It's all part of my master plan!"

"Oh, I knew it." Matt grins, and Foggy moves, rolling to hover above him. Matt feels his warmth, and slides his leg just enough to rub the inside of his thigh against the outside of Foggy's. Foggy leans down and plants quiet kisses on Matt's bared shoulder and collarbone, mindful of the cut on his shoulder and the bruises that trail down as far as his chest without break.

He drags his lips up Matt's neck and sighs against his jaw, "You should meditate. Get your body in gear, make all these marks go away."

"If that'll make you happy, I will. Just send me off gently..." Matt runs his hands up Foggy's shoulders, slow and warm, until they're threading through the strands of his hair. He pulls Foggy to him, sliding their mouths together. He savors the warmth of Foggy's lips to his and the sensation the contact sparks all over his body. He moans softly into Foggy's mouth without thinking.

Foggy chuckles and pulls back, resting their foreheads together, "Doesn't sound like Meditation Matt."

"I'm sorry. You're addictive." Matt says, fingers trailing through Foggy's hair. Foggy rewards the mushy sentiment with a quick kiss.

"Well, you know me. Sweet like candy." He knows Foggy's smiling, runs his fingers over his cheeks to prove it.

"Isn't that a line from a song?" Matt asks, rubbing his thigh to Foggy's idly.

"Mm, sure is. I've got some electric love, don't you think?" Foggy rubs his nose to Matt's, watching him smile.

"Like a live wire, Foggy," Matt tells him, listening to him laugh, "Now, kiss me again."

Foggy hesitates, "...You'll rest tomorrow, won't you? Wear a comfy suit to work and let me dote on you? Come home and take it easy? Laze on the couch and let me describe a movie to you?"

Matt shifts his hips and pushes at Foggy's butt with his foot, "Yes. I promise, anything,  _yes_."

Foggy sighs while holding back a smile, and gives in.


End file.
